


Curfew

by itswheremydemonshide10



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Emmerdale, robron
Genre: Gen, Post-Break Up, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 06:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11618187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itswheremydemonshide10/pseuds/itswheremydemonshide10
Summary: Liv breaks her curfew, and Aaron isn't pleased.





	Curfew

**Author's Note:**

> For one of my anons, who prompted a fic where Liv breaks her curfew and goes back home to Aaron late.

Aaron knows that pacing around the living room is pointless, but he’s too on edge and worried to sit still. It’s 10.30, and Liv should have been home at 9.

He forces himself not to ring her for the fourth time, because if she was going to pick up, she would have by now, and instead wanders into the kitchen to flick the kettle on. It’s as he’s putting the milk in his tea that he hears the key in the door, and he breathes a sigh of relief, before the irritation and anger kicks in.

“What sort of time do ya call this?” He barks, and Liv jumps where she’s hunched over untying her shoe laces.

“Look, before you go nuts…” Liv starts

“Oh, this should be good!” Aaron cuts across her sarcastically. “Go on then, give me one good reason not to when you’re breaking your curfew for the third time in two weeks!”

“Look, I was with Jacob, ok? He’s had an argument on the phone with his mum and he was proper upset, so I stayed and I lost track of time… I was gonna ring you but my phone’s dead.” Liv says, as she walks into the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of orange juice from the fridge. She’s preoccupied with getting a glass down from the cupboard, so she’s oblivious to Aaron tapping on his phone, until her own phone starts ringing in her back jeans pocket, and she freezes.

“Your phone’s dead yeah?” Aaron says, fuming now.

“Ok, so maybe…”

“GIVE IT UP LIV! I’m not interested in any more lies! You’re grounded until I say otherwise!...Yes grounded, as in no seeing friends, no going out, nothing!” Aaron shouts.

Liv stands still and says nothing, seemingly stunned at how stern Aaron is being with her.

“Go on, get to bed.” Aaron tells her, tired now, with a throbbing ache building behind his eyes.

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue, just trudges up the stairs towards her room.

Aaron slumps into the armchair, rubbing at his temples, as he tries to get a handle on his sudden surge of emotion. He hates being like this with Liv, but he hates the thought of her going off the rails like he did at her age even more. She’s too like him for her own good.

He also hates the echoing silence around the house that settles after she leaves the room.  Feels the now familiar pain of loneliness and loss that surrounds him with the realisation that he’s doing this on his own now. Aaron doesn’t feel like he’s very good at the practical parts of being a guardian, he loves spending time with Liv, he can do the fun big brother stuff, and can talk her round when she’s feeling down. But when it comes to discipline, he often feels like he’s struggling, constantly second guessing himself and worrying about making Liv’s problems worse.

Robert was better at that side of things, Aaron thinks dejectedly, the ache that’s set-up home behind his ribs flaring strong and painful.

They’re on better terms now, he and Robert, talking at work and sometimes in the pub, usually about safe topics, like Liv, and the scrapyard, and Adam’s latest mishaps. It’s better than it was before, even if deep down it’s not really how either of them want things to be. But it’s calm, and safe, and ok. And ok is good. At least for now.

But there’s still moments like this, where it hits him that Robert’s not here now, that he has to do this on his own.  The regretful part of his mind is loud tonight it seems. He wishes he had someone to back him up, to reassure him he’s doing the right thing. He wishes he had R…

“No. Stop that.” Aaron mutters to himself.

The guilt kicks in as he sips at his tea, the left-over adrenaline from his earlier anxiety and anger crawling unpleasantly in his stomach. Maybe he was too harsh with her? Should he have let her explain? Was he being over-bearing?

Aaron leaves his empty mug in the sink and heads upstairs with a share-bag of Maltesers. He can’t hear any noise from Liv’s room which is odd because living with his sister is normally a whirlwind of noise, which is part of the reason he was so glad when she returned from Ireland. It’s harder to be unsettled by the quiet of the house when she’s around making a racket.

Until now.

He knocks on the door, and there’s a pause before she replies.

“Come in.”

Liv’s slumped against her pillows watching something on her laptop, and as he enters the room she pulls her headphones off.

“What?” She asks bluntly.

“Look, I’m sorry I shouted all right? But I was worried sick about ya. And you know I hate being lied to.”

Liv has the good grace to look sheepish at that, as Aaron perches himself on the end of her bed.

“If you’d have rang me and told me you were going to be late, instead of ignoring your phone, we could have worked something out.” He says.

“I’m sorry. I’ll ring next time, I promise.” Liv replies as she chews on her bottom lip, and he thinks she means it, so he lets it drop.

“You’re still grounded you though.” Aaron says, and can’t help smirking at the groan she lets out.

“What are you watching?” He asks, tapping her open laptop, and changing the subject before she can complain.

“Game of Thrones.” Liv says, shuffling to the side to let him join her, where she’s leaning back on the headboard of her bed.

Aaron feels that ache flare again. Liv used to watch that with Robert, whilst Aaron used to sit complaining that it was all too complicated and far-fetched, but secretly watching the two of them bond, with pride. He thinks that’s perhaps why Liv is watching it up in her room, with headphones on, to spare him those reminders. Aaron wonders if perhaps he doesn’t give her enough credit for how perceptive she is sometimes.

She seems to clock how he’s feeling now too, clicking back to Netflix and loading a random action film full of guns and car chases instead, before nudging his arm.

“Oi. You gonna share that chocolate or what?”

Her even breathing, and the weight of her leaning against his shoulder is a reassurance. He might have a load of things to figure out still; his own head, his anger, and his estranged husband. But just for tonight he can watch a crappy film with his sister, stuff his face with chocolate, and just let things be.


End file.
